


I Swear

by RockinT765



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, but just stay with me here, it'll get fluffy, the first chapter's hella dramatic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7718272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockinT765/pseuds/RockinT765
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Byakuya says things he doesn't mean. Often, people let it slide. But, occasionally, they can't, and someone gets hurt. And, once in a blue moon, that someone is Byakuya, himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Swear

**Author's Note:**

> I use the NISA translation, and this was a request for an anon over on Tumblr. Don't mind the fact that it's waaaayyyy too dramatic. I rewrote it, but I'm still not happy with it, but meh.

Byakuya Togami woke up on Saturday morning, oddly cheerful, and he knew exactly why. It was because of the person cradled in his arms, snuggled into his side. His soft hair tickled his sides, his soft breaths heated his skin, and the fingertips brushing against his chest electrified him. He could feel Makoto’s heart beating, and that made his own speed up.

He would hold Makoto forever if he could. Byakuya wouldn’t admit it, but he truly adored snuggling. It was a useless activity, and it was often uncomfortable or awkward to maintain, but he wouldn’t trade the boy beside him for anything. His voice, his smell, his spirit… Byakuya loved Makoto more than he could put into words.

And so he rarely said it. If he couldn’t accurately describe what the luckster did to him, he wouldn’t explain it at all. Often, he let his actions speak for him, in terms of emotion. Or, at least he now did. Before he’d met Makoto, Byakuya supposed that he was a man of words. He’d lost his touch, his edge. But, he supposed there were worse things to lose.

Byakuya looked back at Makoto.

The idiot was adorable. Probably the most adorable person he’d ever seen. And, he was incredibly adorable while asleep. He was too adorable for his own good. People took advantage of small, friendly, adorable people. That pink-haired girl from Towa City, she’d repeatedly stressed the disadvantages of being adorable. That girl, however, was warped, twisted, jaded. Makoto was none of those things. He was hopeful, optimistic, and caring.

And, it was all in the eyes, in those pale green eyes of his. One, simply, couldn’t look into those eyes and not see the spark, sense the passion. At one point, that spark had annoyed Byakuya, because he felt that boring, useless people didn’t have _real_ passion, or drive. But, Makoto did, and in fact, he had more force behind his actions than anyone else.

His eyes had drawn him in, and in the end, kept him. And, Byakuya wasn’t exactly too upset. In fact, he really just wanted to see those eyes again. So, removing himself from Makoto’s clutches, he got up out of bed, and grabbed his glasses, pausing, briefly, to give Makoto a kiss on the forehead, one that he never recalled, but Byakuya always gave anyway. Byakuya knew Makoto well enough to know that that would be enough to get him up out of bed. Makoto hated being cold, and soon enough, Byakuya’s body heat would leave the bed, and Makoto would wake up.

Byakuya smiled to himself, as he put on his signature suit, knowing that he wouldn’t have to come into work. Though he did very much enjoy the structure and productivity of working, he, occasionally, liked to have some time to himself.

Putting on his glasses, he walked into the kitchen of his apartment. Byakuya had always been used to mansions, lavish houses, but when it came time to find a new place, after the tragedy, he’d been encouraged by his “friends,” to try out a more casual lifestyle. He cooked for himself, lived in a single-floor apartment, had no servants, and didn’t have any guestrooms. It was strange, but it was cozier, he thought.

Of course, it sometimes irked him, knowing that he was living as the ninety-nine percent did, and that he could do better for himself, but he tried not to dwell on it. He’d spent too much of his life being bitter.

Hopefully, the most bitter thing in his life was his coffee, which he liked black. Well, he didn’t _love_ it black, but that was how he drank it, and he didn’t intend to switch it up. If he added sugar, he may end up adding cream, and at some point he could even end up with… _whipped cream and a drizzle_. The thought nearly gave him the chills. Only vain, stupid people ruined coffee with chocolate and caramel and other assorted flavor enhancers. Coffee was coffee, and it didn’t need those positively disgusting additives.

And, speaking of coffee, Byakuya desperately needed some.

But, when he walked over to the coffee-maker, he was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and... hopping? Makoto had woken up, and Byakuya could only guess that he was trying to put on his pants. Before, however, he could really consider it, Makoto walked in, having somehow already thrown on his socks and shoes. Byakuya thought that it was probably because Makoto kept his shoes permanently tied and just slipped them on.

Regardless of how Makoto'd managed to get over to Byakuya, he had, and he proceeded to give him a quick back-hug as a greeting.

“Good morning, Byakuya!” Makoto said, in his usually chipper way.

“Mm, yes, good morning to you, too, Makoto,” Byakuya replied, still tired since he hadn’t yet had any caffeine. So, he set about making his coffee, and Makoto headed over to the fridge.

“You know, Byakuya,” he said, muffled, since his head was currently in the refrigerator, “I might as well be living here, with how often I sleep over.”

He giggled, grabbing some orange juice, and cocked his head over, to get a better view of Byakuya. “Would you consider it?” Makoto asked, innocently, “Us moving in together?”

Byakuya didn’t look up from the coffee-maker, his liquid gold still dripping into the mug. He was too tired for this. “We’re fine, as we are.”

Makoto, apparently not a fan of that response, crossed his arms. “You didn’t even consider it.”

“That’s right. I didn’t. And, I don’t plan to,” Byakuya said, tiring of the conversation, before it had even really begun.

“Why?” Makoto questioned, legitimate curiosity in his voice, though laced with a whining quality.

Why? Now that was an easy answer. Byakuya had spent almost his whole life, without even a taste of real love, of affection. He didn’t know how to handle it, what to do with it. He wasn’t ready for the next step, but more than that, he feared that he’d let Makoto down. He didn’t think he could be the loving serious boyfriend, and if it stepped up a notch, Makoto may find that his little project wasn’t growing as well as he thought it would’ve.

Byakuya didn’t think he had what it took. But, he wouldn’t tell Makoto that. He probably never would.

“Because I refuse to entertain the idea,” Byakuya finally looked up at him, his gaze sharp and cold, “Case closed.”

“But, why?” Makoto prodded, exasperated. He planted his feet, and attempted to out-stare him.

Makoto wasn’t going to back down, so Byakuya had to shut him down.

“Because that’s what I’ve decided,” Byakuya’s eyes pierced into Makoto, daring him to challenge him, “Case _closed_.”

“You’re being unreasonable! Can’t we at least talk about it?” Makoto demanded, throwing his hands in the air, for emphasis.

“No, we can’t,” Byakuya replied, agitation just beginning to set in.

Makoto softened his gaze, sensing the route the conversation was taking, wringing his wrists. “What? Is it- Is there something wrong between us?”

Byakuya rubbed the bridge of his nose, annoyed that he couldn’t understand the simple concept he was trying to get across. “Ugh, Makoto, you’re taking this too personally.”

And, just like that, Makoto’s fire came back. “How else am I supposed to take it?” Makoto paced around in a circle, ultimately ending up turned toward Byakuya, “I just don’t understand. Why can’t you just talk to me?”

“You’re being immature,” Byakuya sighed, “This is the problem with commoners. You just don’t get it, and you never will.”

Without hesitation, the words echoed throughout the room, and his eyes widened. It’d seem harmless, at the time, but he’d been losing his grip, and as soon as he said it, he wished he could take it back.

Makoto wasn’t faring too well, either.

His arms fell to his sides, gasping, and he took a shaky step back. “So, still, after all this time, I’m nothing but a ‘commoner’ to you?” Makoto put a hand to his chest, “Is that why you wouldn’t consider it?”

Byakuya squeezed his hands into nervous fists, forcing out an answer, “No, th-that’s not what I meant.”

But, Makoto didn't seem to care about what he’d said, as he closed his eyes tight. “Yeah, I’m sure you don’t mean a lot of the things you say,” he said, starting to cry, “Did you mean it when you said ‘I love you’... because I meant it, Byakuya.”

Byakuya’s mouth opened and closed, his mind leaving him. “Makoto-”

Makoto cut him off. “No, it’s ‘commoner,’ isn’t it?” Makoto stared at him, fury burning behind those pale green eyes, “I can’t believe a Togami would use such familiar titles with someone so below him.”

And then, Makoto turned, and began to walk away. For Byakuya, it was as if he was walking straight out of his life. “I never intended to- I just… I’m sorry.”

But, Makoto didn’t turn around. However, he did stop, just before the door. “I hope you have a great day, Byakuya. I’m sorry that you wasted so much of it with me,” he said, before opening the door and walking out, without another word.

Suddenly, Byakuya was alone.

He couldn’t remember a time where it had gone this far, where they’d said things this bad. He feared he’d ruined it all. And then, Byakuya Togami couldn’t breathe.

He threw out his arm, reaching for a chair, to stabilize himself, but all it had done was throw off his balance, and almost in slow-motion, he was falling to the floor. But, when he hit that cold floor, he hardly felt the impact. He took no time to assess his condition, only numbly sat up, a single thought on his mind. He wondered why his face was wet.

Byakuya lifted his hand, feeling his cheek, and realized that he was crying. When was the last time he had cried? He couldn’t remember.

It was only a second before the dam broke.

He began to sob, his hands over his mouth, and rocking back-and-forth. Tears poured out faster than words did when he wasn’t thinking. Sounds screeched out, a competition between choking and screaming, and they were tied. Byakuya was crying harder than he’d cried in his entire life, and he knew that there was nobody to comfort him because it was, entirely, justified.

He continued like that, thoughts bouncing around his head, but after a while, the tears dried on his skin, and his breathing got deeper, slower. Yet, even once he had finished, he felt empty, perhaps more so than he’d felt, before he met Makoto.

And, in his his numbed state, he lost sense of reality. Byakuya blinked, in an effort to center himself, and stared at the clock. He was certain that it’d been, at least, almost an hour. An hour of crying. Makoto was long gone, by then. Perhaps he could call.

So, he did, but Makoto didn’t pick up. And, Byakuya didn’t leave a message.

He didn’t know what he would’ve said, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops, did I just leave it at a cliffhanger? Bummer. One more chapter on the horizon!
> 
> Also, sorry this sucks so bad, anon. I'm failing you. I can't write angry characters. Gah.


End file.
